


104 - Hero Van is the Silver Lining of an Otherwise Very Shitty Situation

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Hero Van, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “One where everyone is at the bar hangin out and when she isnt lookin someone tries to roofie her and van and the lads are well pissed and try to fight the guy??” // Note: I deviated a little bit from the original prompt, and I hope that’s okay?





	104 - Hero Van is the Silver Lining of an Otherwise Very Shitty Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This fic contains drink spiking and discussion about the potential consequences of that.

It all happened so fast. You didn't have time to process any of it. One minute you were dancing, the next you were lying on the concrete sidewalk out the front of the bar with a boy you didn't know performing chest compressions on you. His face was twisted in panic, and he was begging you to breathe. You could hear Evie crying. "Please don't fucking die," the boy said. The last thing you saw was his necklace swaying in the air as he pressed against your heart hard. 

Ten minutes earlier you had been buying drinks with Evie when there was a break in good songs. The cocktails were pretty; Instagram worthy. You both turned to rummage through your bags for your phones. After cheering, and taking small sips, Evie spat hers out all over the bar. You laughed. "Oh my god! How can something so pretty taste so gross," she cried.

"Yeah, they're not great... Just drink fast!" you suggested. 

"Drink fast?! You drink fast, Y/N. Go on. Both." 

So you did. Suddenly, there were people around you. A guy in a button up white shirt knocked the second glass from your hand. "What the fuck!?" you yelled as he did. Another guy in a red velvet shirt was next to him.

"He just went out front, I'll go grab him," Velvet Shirt said.

"What's your fucking problem?" Evie yelled at White Shirt. 

"I tried to get here quicker. I'm so sorry. Too many people in here. We just watched some wanker put something in your drinks," 

"What?" from you.

"Yeah. You turned around and he just leant over. Can't be sure, but... did you just drink them both?" he asked you. You nodded. You started to feel it then, the darkness approaching in the corners of your mind. Fast working poison. 

"Y/N?" Evie said, her voice edged in panic. The guy wrapped his arm around your waist and led you outside. Under the street lights a fight was happening. Velvet Shirt was holding someone by the collar. People were around them yelling. Your hearing was cutting in and out, and you didn't know what they were saying. 

"He was next to Y/N," Evie said about the guy in the fight, the one now outnumbered. The world started to spin, and a storm picked up in your stomach. Your knees gave way, but White Shirt had you. He slowly lowered you to the ground. He took off his jacket and folded it under your head. He was kneeling one side of you, and Evie was on the other. 

"Y/N, is it?" White Shirt said. You opened your eyes, not realising they were even closed. "Hey. Hi. I'm Van. You gotta stay awake, yeah?" You listened to him direct Evie to call an ambulance. The fight was still happening, and you realised Velvet Shirt was trying to ascertain what the guy had put in the drinks, and how much. "Fuck," Van whispered. "I don't think she's breathing," 

"What?!" Evie yelled and started to cry, trying to take directions from the emergency services operator. Van started chest compressions. 

"Please don't fucking die," he said. 

…

Upon awaking, you surveyed the dimly lit hospital room around you. Evie was asleep, body in a chair next to the bed and head resting against your legs. The door was open, and there were windows in the walls. You watched people walk through the corridor with purpose. Your head ached and your throat felt scratchy. Tapping Evie's arm, she stirred, and as soon as her eyes focused on you she started to cry. 

"You died!" she said. You sat up and looked around, hoping for water. "What do you need?" she asked. You told her, and she brought over a cup with a straw. 

"What happened?" 

"What do you remember?"

"Um... dancing... then we went to get drinks? I don't know. We were outside and I felt sick. There was a guy. I don't know," you tried to recall but the last full memory was Mr Brightside. 

"Someone spiked our drinks, but you drank both. I told you to," she started to cry again. 

"Not your fault, Evie," 

"That's what Van said. You stopped breathing though; way before the ambulance got there. He just kept doing CPR though. Like, for so long, Y/N. People kept..." she stopped as her crying picked up. She was sobbing. "They kept trying to make him stop but he wouldn't. You weren't breathing and we couldn't find your pulse. The ambulance got there and did that shock thing and you woke up kind of,"

"I didn't die. Don't be dramatic. I'm fine," you told her.

"You weren't," she whispered, and looking into her eyes you were unnerved. Things had happened to you that you weren't there for. Worse things could have happened to you.

"Who's Van?" you asked, changing the subject slightly.

"He saw it happen. Him and his friend. They came over to try to stop it but you'd already smashed the drinks. Van's the one that saved you, and his friend beat the shit out of the guy. I don't know what happened, 'cause I was in the ambulance with you, but I think they probably called the cops. They-" her sentence was cut short by a knock at the door. It was a nurse.

"Visiting hours are well and truly over," she said.

"Please don't make me leave her!" Evie replied, sitting up straight.

"Well, I would if you let me finish, love. They're over, but given what's happened, I'll give you another half hour. Also, there is a boy out in the waiting room that won't leave until he sees you. He doesn't know your last name though, so I wouldn't let him through,"

"What's his name?" you asked.

"Ryan. Although, he hesitated when I asked. Probably lying. He said it was at the club you came from,"

"Is it Van?! White shirt, messy brown hair?" Evie asked as she stood, seemingly excited. The nurse nodded. "Yeah, let him come through. He saved her." You didn't doubt that he did, but you didn't remember him, nor his apparently heroic act. Tired and sore, you really just wanted to sleep. As you waited for him, you asked Evie if she called your family. She shook her head, and you thanked her for that. No use worrying more people.

Van came running down the corridor and threw himself through the door. He stood at the foot of your bed and looked at you like you were a fucking miracle. His eyes were glassy and lined in red. He felt familiar, but you didn't remember him. He breathed out hard. Evie walked and pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. She started to cry again. He made quiet 'shhh' sounds, then said, "It's alright. Look. She's fine." Evie nodded into his chest, and eventually let go. She sat back in her chair and he pulled up one close too. 

"Hey," he said.

"Hi,"

"How are you feeling?" Although it sounded sincere, it was weird. He was a stranger. You glanced at Evie, suddenly nervous. You nodded slowly. "Yeah? Do you get to leave tonight?" You didn't know, you'd not spoken to a doctor.

"They said they'd keep her until tomorrow midday or afternoon. Just to be sure. They want her to come back for scans and stuff in the next few days too, because of the amount of time she went without oxygen. They want to check her brain," Evie told him, even though you'd not heard any of it before.

"How long did I go without oxygen?"

"Three or four minutes," Evie said.

"You stopped breathing completely and we didn't know what to do," Van told you. "We just kept doing CPR until they got there,"

"You kept doing CPR. She was dead, Van, and you kept her heart going and you saved her," Evie said to him. You were sick of hearing it. His leg bounced with agitation and he kind of nodded, but looked up at you. He didn't look like he was expecting a thank you, or anything, but you knew it was the socially acceptable thing to do.

"Evie, could you go find me tea or something?" you asked her. She looked from you to Van and back, nodded, and left the room. "I love her, but she's prone to melodrama. What really happened?"

"Nah, pretty much what she said. I, uh," Van looked down at his hands, they were trembling and he tried to shake them into stillness. "I just thought you were gonna die in front of me. I really fuckin' did. The sound she was makin' was God awful. Then you just… went cold. It was the worst thing I've ever seen, pretty sure." You could hear how upset he was then. It made sense. He saw it unfold and felt like he could have stopped it. He probably told Evie it was going to be alright, then you essentially dropped dead. You didn't know what Van was like normally; how carefree he was, how happy-go-lucky. You wondered how this would affect him in the long-term.

"Thank you. For everything,"

"No need for that, love. Anyone would have done it. Just glad you're okay. I didn't crack a rib or nothing?"

"No. Not that I know. You know the same as me at this point though. Um. What happened with the guy? The one that…"

"Bond had him cornered fast. When the ambulance took you, my mate Larry drove me here straight away. I wasn't there when the bobs came. I called Bond though, said they took the guy. Imagine they'll be paying you a visit tomorrow," Van said. You dreaded the thought of that.

Van stayed drinking weak tea with you and Evie until the nurse returned and kicked them out. As he predicted, in the morning the police arrived asking what you remembered. Evie picked you up in the afternoon and made you write when your fMRI scans were booked into her diary.

…

You didn't go to court to watch the guy be acquitted. There was not enough evidence, the judge said. The only two witnesses were both under the influence themselves, and your uninjured brain meant the harm was minimal. Evie raged; you almost died, she said. She paced in your lounge room. She was still in her best pantsuit.

"The entire fuckin' justice system is rigged. Don't care about the fact you stopped fucking breathing. Don't care about girls. Don't care about what Van and Bondy said 'cause they're working class. Don't like Van's accent. The motherfucker is going to get away with it. Gonna go to another club. Spike another drink. Nobody will see. He'll ra-"

"Evie!" you stopped her. "I know. Alright? I know. It fucking sucks and it's not fair. There's nothing we can do, yeah? Just… I just want to forget it. Move on or whatever,"

She stopped walking and looked at you. Nodding, she sat on the couch. "All of it?"

"All of it what?"

"Do you want to forget all of it? Because… Van…"

"What about him?"

"Don't think he wants to forget about you. After the hearing today he chased me down the street. Asked how you were doing, and the scans and stuff. Said you were alright," she told you.

"Can you stop telling people are my medical history?"

"I don't tell people! I tell Van. And you'd not even have a medical anything without him, so I feel like he's entitled to know," Evie replied. You rolled your eyes and decided against arguing with her fucked up logic. He, regardless of what he'd done, was not entitled to anything. "Anyway. I gave him your number,"

"You what?" you yelled.

"Oh my god, Y/N, calm down. He's cute and nice and likes you. What's the big deal?"

Van would be a reminder of your near-death experience, and he was a reminder of what could have happened. Evie didn't get that. She hadn't felt the drugs blur her senses; the darkness. She hadn't had nightmares. She hadn't watched the bruises made by Van's hand on her chest fade each day, but grow no less painful.

When Van messaged though, you replied.

…

You met him in a café on a Sunday morning. You watched him stir milk into his tea. His hands were all bones and knuckles. He looked tired, and you wondered if he'd been sleeping rough too.

"So, you're alright?" he asked, again.

"Yeah, fMRI is all clear,"

"But, how are you, you know?"

You looked at him, studied his expression. He meant it. He wanted to know. Wanted to check in on you. "It's not like in the movies, Van. You don't have to look after me because you saved me. You're not responsible for what happens to me anymore,"

"I know. It's not like that,"

"What's it like then?"

"Well… It's just one of those, yeah? Was meant to be a good night out. Didn't end up that way," Van said, shrugging and taking a sip of his tea. You watched the people in the café glance at Van a little longer than what was polite. As he spoke, you looked at him and saw what they all did. He was beautiful. "Only saw what happened to you because I was about to come over and buy a drink myself. Your dancing was ridiculous, and that dress you had on looked ace. So, I ain't checkin' in with you 'cause I have to. I just want to. And maybe I can check in tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that, you know?"

Van smirked over his teacup.

"My dancing was ridiculous?!"

He laughed. "That's what you're taking away from all that?"

You shrugged and blew onto your tea to cool it. You watched him smile across the table at you. In all the bad, Van was a silver lining.


End file.
